


Dragonfire

by UrsulaAngstrom



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrsulaAngstrom/pseuds/UrsulaAngstrom
Summary: This is a story I wrote in November of 2003 under the pen name Seau.  A fan of my stories e-mailed me and asked me to share this story on A3.  The theme of the story is: kinky things S&H do while on a stakeout.  2017 is the Chinese Year of the Rooster, so technically, this story also has a Chinese New Year theme since eating chicken is part of the plot, as my friend remembered much better than I did.  Thanks, Fumiko!I hope people enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.





	

Dragonfire

by Seau

11-5-03 3:30 a.m.  
Revised February 05, 2017

 

It had all began so innocently. Hutch snuck out while they were on a stakeout and got a bucket of fried chicken from the Parkmoor chicken stand two blocks behind them. When he got back to the lobby of the office they were lurking in, they decided to have a picnic right there on the floor. While they hid in the shadows, and waited for their prey to approach, they shared the hot crispy chicken, the mashed potatoes and gravy, and the tub of cole slaw. 

Smiling when Hutch whipped out the red and white gingham napkin like a magician's scarf, Starsky melted and said, "You think of everything," his voice warm with appreciation as he looked at his beguiling blond lover.

"Plan ahead," Hutch said as he sat down beside Starsky and took another napkin out of the other concealed pocket in the lining of his leather jacket.

Biting into the drumstick he took out of the bucket, Hutch talked with his mouth full as he said, "I was a Sea Scout, remember? Gotta be prepared."

"Prepared for what?" Starsky murmured suggestively.

"Anything," Hutch murmured, his voice as provocative as Starsky's.

Wiping the chicken grease off his fingers but not his lips, Starsky tangled his fingers in Hutch's blond hair again and drew him into a long, sensual kiss they both savored until they were breathless.

"Mmmm," Hutch purred as their lips reluctantly parted. "Hot chicken kisses!"

Giggling as he watched Hutch lick those sensual lips, Starsky said, "Hot chicken kisses! You are a kinky bastard, Hutchinson."

"Kinkier than you know," Hutch hinted with glee. "I got an extra container of gravy in case we run out of lube."

Laughing so raucously he could have blown their cover if the thieves were nearby, Starsky said, "Those rumors I've heard about you farm boys must be true."

Blushing as Hutch chuckled heartily while he finished the chicken leg, Starsky said, "You brought lube on a stakeout? Really?"

"Why not?" Hutch replied blithely as he licked mashed potatoes off his spoon in a way that was so indecent it left Starsky was boggle-eyed.

That cavalier shrug and the naughty gleam in those aquamarine eyes started a fire in Starsky's balls.

"It makes me anticipatory," Hutch confessed, referring to the lube hidden in his coat pocket.

The desire in Hutch's eyes and the velvety quality of that dulcet voice made Starsky feel like the semen in his balls was bubbling inside a witch's cauldron.

Hutch didn't bother to wipe the chicken grease off his fingers before he reached out to fondle the bulge trapped beneath the fly of Starsky's tight jeans.

"Where's it at?" Starsky murmured after Hutch subdued him with a kiss and tongue fucked him to surrender.

Frisking Hutch as he ravaged his lover's strong fragrant neck, Starsky savored the warm, rich sound of Hutch's naughty laughter and shoved his hands into all the pockets of Hutch's leather jacket until he found what he was looking for. A tiny tube Slick of just waiting to be used...

"Slick..." Starsky murmured, complimenting Hutch's ingenuity--and his sense of humor--as he read the label of the unopened tube of lubricant.

"Unscented," Starsky sulked, pretending to pout because that always made Hutch laugh.

Placating Starsky with another kiss, Hutch laughed and said, "The better to fuck you unbeknownst to others, my dear David."

Slick was a brand of lubricant you could only find at Santa's Sex Shoppe. It came in many flavorful scents--and it was edible--because it was made out of all natural ingredients... 

Starsky liked to buy Cherry Slick and put it in Hutch's stocking on Christmas Eve, because Hutch was the man who'd popped his cherry and there was nothing Starsky enjoyed more than making love with Hutch on a floor strewn with colorful tatters of wrapping paper and ribbon. You could do such kinky things with those ribbons...

"When you grin like that you look like The Big Blond Wolf," Starsky murmured. 

Starsky loved Hutch's ornery grin. Because that grin made his fallen angel look like the sneaky devil he really was.

"Then kick off your sneakers and 'cum' here, Little Red Riding Socks," Hutch dared as he tugged on Starsky's bell bottoms.

"And how do I explain catching the thieves red handed while just wearing red socks on my feet, Lust Man?"

Chuckling wantonly, Starsky snuggled into Hutch's arms when the persistent blond draped his arm around his shoulders and beguiled him with another kiss.

Nibbling on Starsky's neck as he slowly unbuttoned Starsky's faded denim shirt, Hutch said, "Tell them your gun jammed, so you threw your shoes at them."

"Again?" 

"It was true the first time," Hutch rationalized between kisses.

While chasing a felon, Starsky's gun had jammed. He couldn't scare the fleeing man shitless by firing a warning shot into the air and yelling "FREEZE!" so Starsky screeched to a stop, yanked off one of his sneakers and hurled it like a boomerang! When the Adidas missile hit the back of the man's legs it startled him and made him stumble. Quickly yanking off his remaining sneaker so it wouldn't hobble him, Starsky apprehended the purse snatcher while wearing his lucky red socks.

"You're a frisky stallion. I’d believe that you threw another shoe," Hutch murmured as he rubbed the beautiful beast writhing in its denim prison beneath his loving hand. 

"You'd believe anything I told you when you get this horny, Hutch."

"True," Hutch conceded as he kissed his gorgeous partner again.

Starsky was so damn sexy he looked charming, not ridiculous, with that red and white napkin tied around his neck. Tucking napkins into the collar of his shirt, or tying them around his neck like a Black Lab wearing a bandana for a collar, was just one of Starsky's many endearing eccentricities. To this day, Hutch had no idea why Starsky acted so precociously gauche with napkins, but his partner looked so damn cute Hutch didn't care. 

Hutch knew just how to touch Starsky to drive him wild with desire. Ken’s hot, horny hand was stroking his cock languidly as their tongues twined sensuously in each other's mouths.

Writhing helplessly in Hutch's arms, Starsky bucked his hips towards the masterful hand that made his cock feel like a rocket in a gantry at Cape Canaveral--on countdown to a blastoff that would take him to the Moon.

He got so hard so fast, Hutch had to be very careful as he slowly yanked the zipper down. 

Starsky's erection was so formidable it filled his denim jeans to capacity. Grumbling in frustration, Hutch had to let Starsky go and lean over his partner. Easing that zipper down--without taking a chunk of Starsky with it--was a two-handed job because his jeans were so damned tight.

"How in God's name do you squeeze yourself into these jeans in the morning, Starsky? I can't get the fucking zipper down! It's stuck."

Starsky, breathless with longing, pleaded, "Pull harder!"

"I can't," Hutch fretted, shushing Starsky with a kiss. "I might hurt you."

"I don't care!" Starsky growled, tangling his fingers in Hutch's silky blond hair. 

"You started this four-alarm fire in my jeans, you put it out!" Starsky said, pushing Hutch's head towards the bulge tenting his fly.

Eagerly kneeling between those sexy bowed legs, Hutch carefully tugged the zipper down until Starsky's trapped cock sprang at him a sea snake.

Chuckling devilishly, as he nuzzled his face in Starsky's squirming crotch, Hutch licked, kissed and nibbled the sea serpent he found tangled in the black mesh underwear Starsky was wearing beneath his jeans.

"What's this fire breathing dragon's name?" Hutch murmured as he licked the frothy nectar clinging to the black netting like rabid drool.

"Flame Thrower," Starsky gasped as Hutch mouthed him through the mesh and nearly sent him into orbit.

"He drools, but I like him," Hutch murmured affectionately, as he gently eased Starsky's oozing cock out of the sexy mesh thong.

"Can I lick him naked?"

"Please!" Starsky gasped, his whole body quaking on the verge of orgasm just watching Hutch caress him so covetously.

When Hutch lowered his head, and licked him from base to tip like a popsicle, Starsky felt like his DNA was unraveling, molecule-by-molecule, as Hutch avidly swirled that silky tongue around his cock before that sensual mouth gradually devoured him whole.

Every bone in Starsky’s body seemed to melt at the same time as he slid onto the floor in a puddle of wanton lust. The only part of Starsky's body that felt hard was his cock. 

His cock felt harder than a nightstick, and almost as long, as it quivered in Hutch's mouth. No one had ever sucked his cock as ravenously as Hutch did.

His body felt as tense as a bowstring as he arched towards orgasm. The pleasure Hutch gave him was as sublime as it was intense. Erupting like a geyser as he cried out his lover's name, Starsky's cock felt like a flaming arrow shot by the centaur Sagittarius as his soul catapulted towards the Moon.

Still quaking and twitching on the wooden floorboards, Starsky watched Hutch savor the taste of his cum as he licked his lips this time.

"Now that's MY idea of finger lickin' good," Hutch purred as he caressed Starsky's sultry face with his sticky fingers.

Wantonly sucking on Hutch's cum-slick fingers as the horny blond gathered his sex ravaged body into those long possessive arms, Starsky sang a little song he wrapped his arms around his favorite cuddle bug.

To the tune of Puff The Magic Dragon, Starsky sang:

"Hutch the Dragon Slayer lived by the sea...  
And frolicked with his naked friend in a land called Me & Thee..."

Chuckling lustily, Hutch said, "You're not naked Starsky."

"Not yet," Starsky said, waggling his brows suggestively.

 

The End


End file.
